


Sinner

by LeastExpected_Archivist



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Drama, Father/Son Incest, Hurt/Comfort, Incest, Kinky, Kinky/Squicky Pairings, M/M, Parent/Child Incest, Points of View, Slash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2002-02-04
Updated: 2002-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:48:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26290645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeastExpected_Archivist/pseuds/LeastExpected_Archivist
Summary: By Marylou.The Queen of Mirkwood discovers that her husband has discovered sweeter pleasures in their son's arms.
Relationships: Legolas Greenleaf/Thranduil
Kudos: 11
Collections: Least Expected





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Amy Fortuna, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Least Expected](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Least_Expected), which has been offline since 2002. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on the [Least Expected collection profile](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/leastexpected/profile).
> 
> Warning: Slash, INCEST. If this disgusts you, then it's not wise to read it.  
>  Disclaimer: Middle Earth and its characters belong to J.R.R. Tolkien.  
>  A/N: The idea is inspired and based on Ebony Kain's "Closer to the last". So, basically, it is stolen, but I made sure to give credit to that great story that inspired my most sick and twisted imagination. If you can't cope up with Thranduil loving and bedding his innocent, under-aged son, then leave. This is nothing for you. Don't flame me and say that I haven't warned you.  
>  I'm saying it again. This contains INCEST. Father and son in the same bed.  
>  If you're still with me, then I hope you'll enjoy this!

Another kiss on the cheek, another lie, another night spent alone in bed. 

Queen Nimiel was in despair. She could not even remember for how long this was going on. She had spent so many nights alone in their bedroom that she even found herself surprised when Thranduil chose to sleep with her - or more precisely next to her. 

Making love was an activity they had not shared with each other for endless years. Centuries, she corrected herself. 

"You know how many responsibilities I have. The country and our people must come first." 

That was his main excuse. At first, Nimiel had believed him. After all, in the first years of their marriage Thranduil had been a very warm and passionate lover. Rarely a night would pass without sharing pleasure in each other's bodies, and even at times when the King was forced to stay away from his country he would write his wife passionate love letters, which made her pale cheeks blush. 

And then suddenly, it all stopped. Thranduil had grown distant and cold towards her, refusing to touch her and avoiding sharing their bed. Outside, when they were surrounded by other people, he was the normal, loving and caring husband he had always been. But in reality, their marriage had ended. 

Nimiel had tried hard to explain the reasons to herself. Her behavior towards Thranduil had not changed the least, so she could have done anything to disturb him. And her appearance had remained unchanged throughout the centuries. She had once feared that after giving birth to three sons, her husband would stop desiring her and look upon her only as the mother of his children. But then Thranduil had reassured her that it was not possible. Yet, his desire had vanished. 

What troubled Nimiel the most though, was the fact that Thranduil looked very different. He was always happy and pleasant, smiling and humming all the time. He reminded her of the young and fiery elf she had fallen in love with and how he had been in the first years of their marriage. He almost seemed... reborn. 

Or maybe he was in love. 

This was a thought that had been lingering in the back of her mind for quite some time. She had tried to push it away, to deny it, but it had become almost too obvious. She knew her husband well. It was easy to read the signs. 

Someone had replaced her in his heart. The very thought suffocated her. She had always believed that this would not happen to them, that they were meant to be and their love would burn eternally. 

How mistaken she had been! 

She rolled uneasily in her bed, feeling the jealousy burn her insides. She could not allow another to share her husband. She was a Queen; Noldor blood was running through her veins. She had pride and dignity and she would never allow another woman to steal what was rightfully hers. 

In a minute full of confidence and determination, she stormed out of the bed, grabbed her robe from the wardrobe, and walked out of the room, determined to find her husband and drag him back to their chambers. She chose to get out from the balcony, for she did not want to draw so much attention. 

Silently, like a shadow, she walked with quick steps, steeling glances inside the rooms she was passing by. Only elves of high nobility, her maids-of-honor, and her husband's advisors were sleeping there, so she did not expect to find Thranduil there. Her suspicions turned to the servants and the kitchen-maidens. They were young and capable to draw his attention. 

Leaping with elven-grace, she landed on the level her children were sleeping. She quickly passed Nimaran's room, noticing that her eldest had _company_ in the room and she did not want to disturb him. His youngest brother was sleeping soundly. She passed a few empty rooms, before she reached her youngest's room. Legolas was always very self-withdrawn; he preferred to stay away from his brothers and cherished his privacy. 

She was ready to pass by the room without giving it a second glance, but something caught her attention. The curtains were drawn. 

Very rarely did one elf choose to close the light curtains that hung in their rooms, mostly out of decoration-serves, than for use. Her curiosity awoken, she halted and tried to listen if any sounds came from that room. 

Legolas had always intrigued her. Despite being the youngest of her children and not having yet reached his majority, he was the one had the smallest attachment to his mother. They rarely spoke and Nimiel was under the impression that Legolas had never really loved her. 

She stood completely still, holding her breath, and suddenly some low sounds reached her ears. Some gasps, some moans, they were definitely sounds of pleasure. Who could be there? 

And then she heard it... 

"Ada..." [A/N: "Ada" means "Dad" in Sindarin] 

Her breath caught in her throat, her heart was beating frantically. Petrified she stood there, the word echoing in her ears over and over. 

It had barely been above a whisper, she could have misheard, it could have been anything else, she told herself. It couldn't be what she just heard, it was too much, too absurd. 

"Ai, Ai! Ada, yes..." 

Loud and clear this time, it left no room for doubts. The queen put a hand on the wall to steady herself. How could it be? Her mind still refused to believe what she had just heard. Because if she believed it, it would mean that her husband was... 

No! It was impossible. Something like that could not happen to them. 

She forced herself to make a few steps and now she was standing almost across the window, the wall still half-covering her. She longed to draw the curtains open and end this mystery, but something inside her told her not to. She simply stood there, listening and praying to any god that might hear her, that her ears had betrayed her. 

Then, somehow the wind seemed to cooperate with her. The cold night breeze was enough to make the light drapes flatter and tucked the one corner up. It was all the queen needed to take a look inside the room. 

And there... Tears rolled from her eyes, she could not believe what she was seeing. There in the bed with her youngest, under-aged boy, was no other than her own husband. The child's father. 

Before she even knew it, she was running away, fleeing from the horrible sight she had just witnessed. This time, she was careless; little did she care if anyone heard her as she run back to her chambers, unable to control her tears. 

They had been destroyed. 

* * *

"Are you leaving so soon?" 

Before I have the chance to move away, I feel one strong hand clasping around my chest, while he winds his long leg around my waist. I am trapped in my son's warm embrace. 

I turn around and he cradles me even closer, nuzzling my neck. I find myself completely unable to resist the invitation of those innocent, midnight-blue eyes and draw him close for a kiss. His lips open under mine, just like they always do, and once again, we are lost in each other. 

"I have to leave lest someone starts looking for me," I say, but I cannot find the strength to leave his embrace. His soft hands roam around my back and backside, causing me to groan in pleasure even if I don't want to. 

"Always the same," he complains, while his mouth moves constantly against my neck and my jaw, teasing and torturing me. "You always have to leave." 

"We cannot change that, beloved, as much as we would like to," I whisper, but he does not seem to hear me, as he is preoccupied with kissing my chest, sucking hard at my nipples. I moan again and feel my body responding to my son's touch, even though I know that it is too dangerous to remain in his chambers in the morning. 

"Legolas..." a whisper, a plea. I still cannot understand how I can feel so utterly lost under his touch, completely defenseless, vulnerable... 

I have never felt like this before. This love that grows in my heart is so intense, yet so forbidden and dark. It is forbidden amongst our kin to bed a member of your family, but how can I refuse when my eyes meet his, and I melt under his sweet, adoring gaze? How can I refuse when in the middle of the night, amidst the darkness and the shadows, at the top of our lovemaking, he whispers that he loves me? 

My son, my jewel... 

He was still innocent when I first touched him, a virgin, inexperienced with neither male nor female. Knowing this, I tried to refuse, I tried not to spoil him, yet when he told me that he only wanted me to be the first one to touch him, that he trusted me... then I broke. I wept back then, moved by the sincerity of his voice, by the depth of his request. I wept and then I made love to him, I loved him like I had no other. 

We both knew that our actions were forbidden and wrong, but neither of us could resist to this unexpected passion, to this growing desire that was surrounding us. We continued sleeping together, so often, that I could not even touch my wife again, for all that I had in my mind was my Legolas. 

And here we find ourselves one again, tasting and touching each other like no parent and child should. When his warm, wet mouth closes around my member, I am once more lost. I look down and I am nearly insane with pleasure as I watch the long, rhythmic movements of his golden head. I have spoiled my son. I have led him into this abyss, when I knew that I had to protect him. 

We cannot go back now. We are too depended in each other, too sucked up in our passion. There is no tomorrow for our love, yet it blossoms in our hearts and it becomes stronger and stronger. 

My son, my little leaf... I come in his mouth and the whole world is erased. I moments like this, nothing matters. It matters not that I am his father, that if someone finds out, the only punishment will be death. 

No. In moments like these, it is only him and me. Two people in love, who care not for the rest of the world, because they have each other. 

The other moments are the ones that scare me. 

End


	2. Chapter 2

Nimiel had cried herself to sleep the previous night and her whole body ached from the terrible night she had had. She stretched out in her bed, remembering what it was that had upset her so. Her husband was sleeping with Legolas. 

She took a deep breath for a moment, trying to calm down and not scream out in her despair. How could this have happened to them? Thranduil was a good person; she knew that from first hand. Never would she have imagined that he could take advantage of their youngest child like that. What could have happened? What could have driven him to these horrid deeds? 

Her thoughts traveled to the past and she remembered how close Thranduil and Legolas had always been. Even though the King loved his elder sons as well, Legolas had stolen his heart from the very first moment. He was the only one in the family that had inherited his blond hair and the midnight blue eyes; the others had taken her own darker characteristics. 

Thranduil had immediately identified himself with his youngest child and he spent every single second of his spare time with him. He was the one who had thought him sparing, archery and row and he always took him on his short trips to show him a little from Middle Earth. 

But his interest and love for Legolas never seemed to stray from paternal. He had been a good father for him and Legolas looked up to him as an idol and adored him with all his heart. Given all the extra love from Thranduil, Legolas never felt the need to approach Nimiel and ask for her affection. 

Now that she knew the whole truth, she wondered if perhaps everything had been a plan from Thranduil to drive their son away from her, so that he could not turn to her now that his father was abusing him. But it seemed impossible. She knew Thranduil, how could she have been so mistaken? 

Deciding that it was finally time for some answers, she climbed of the bed and dressed as quickly as possible. Without even noticing the questioning looks she received from the servants, she stormed through the long corridors until she had reached her husband's study. 

"You cannot go inside, my queen," the guard in front of the door warned her, "The King is having a meeting." 

Completely ignoring his words, the queen pushed him aside and pushed the door open. At her entrance, everyone stood up and bowed in respect, but she gave little attention to that. 

"What do you want, Nimiel?" Thranduil asked with obvious irritation, "Can't you see that I am busy?" 

"I have to speak with you," the queen demanded stubbornly, "It is an emergency and I can assure you that do not want me to start talking in front of everyone." 

Glaring at his wife, the king sighed with exasperation and motioned to his counselors to leave. They did as their king commanded them and closed the door behind them. Thranduil eyes flickered once again to his wife and noticed the expression of menace on her face. 

"Where were you last night?" Nimiel got straight to the point, sensing no need for typicalities. 

"Is that why I had to interrupt my meeting?" Thranduil asked angrily, unable to imagine what he wife knew, "You are going crazy." 

The Queen stared at him in shock. "I am crazy? Well. Let me tell you something, Thranduil. I know all your lies about 'having to work'. I am well aware that you are cheating to me. Do you at least have the gull to tell me who your lover is?" 

It was now Thranduil's turn to gasp in shock. How had Nimiel found out? How much did she know? He had to deny it...perhaps she was only testing him. "You do not know what you are talking about," he protested, but his voice was weak. 

"Just like I imagined," Nimiel exclaimed, "You are too embarrassed to tell me, yet you have no shame when you abuse our little son." 

Thranduil felt as if he had been stabbed. He covered his mouth with his hands, his eyes closing automatically. He felt as though he would faint. It was something no one was supposed to find out, no one could learn. He tried hard not to think of the consequences, but he was not able to forget. They would hang him if it came out. And his little leaf...what could happen to him? 

Suddenly, he realized that Nimiel was still talking. He lifted his head and tried to listen to her. 

"...How could you? How could you molest you _own_ son? Have you no shame, no morals? How could you bear to see your child suffering?" 

"I did not abuse Legolas," Thranduil stated firmly and stood up. He could accept everything, but not this. He would never in his life do anything to hurt his most beloved son. "He came to me in his own free will. He loves me as I love him." 

"Thranduil, what could he know about love?" Nimiel cried in desperation, "He is but a child, he doesn't know what is right or wrong." 

"You do not know him well, Nimiel, and you underestimate him," the king retorted, "He is only one year away from his majority and he knows exactly what he wants. He knows that his actions might be wrong, but he has full control of his mind. Legolas is no child anymore." 

"He may come of age next year, but that doesn't change the fact that you slept with him while he was still under-age. This surely did not start yesterday, did it? And even so, it is not important. He will always be your son and you know that it forbidden to bed a member of your own family." 

"Nimiel, you do not have to repeat all those things to me," Thranduil said, trying to keep his voice calm, "I know about his. Do you think I never felt disgusted of myself for doing this to Legolas? I love him more than life. But, I cannot help it. I have no control on myself. I know that it is my entire fault; as his father, I should have protected him. But instead, I fell in love with him." 

Tears were streaming down from the Queen's face. "Are you listening to yourself?" her voice came out chocked, "He is YOUR SON. You cannot fall in love with him. It is sick." 

Thranduil took a few deep breaths. His wife was in a state of shock and hysteria, and he did not blame her at all. But he knew that they were never going to resolve things like that. "What are you going to do?" he asked solemnly. "Are you going to tell our people? They will have me executed immediately and Legolas...I do not dare to think what they will do to him." 

"You should have thought about this before you lead him into this corruption," Nimiel stated angrily. But she said no more. She had not really thought about what she would do next; her main priority was to demand explanations from her husband. He seemed honest and she really did not believe he had abused Legolas. But, what they were doing was still wrong. She could not just let it continue. 

"I will not tell. Yet," she announced finally. "I want to talk to Legolas first." Thranduil tried to protest, but she cut him off. "I want the full truth. Until then, you had better not touch him. For your own good." 

* * *

My wife's shouts from this morning still echo in my ears, as I sit on my rocking chair in front of the fireplace. I understand why she was so upset and I give her every right, yet her words still disturb me. Especially her accusation that I abused Legolas. I would never even think of doing something like that. He is so dear to me. 

I remember the first time I touched him. It was right here, in front of my fireplace, almost five years ago. He was very happy, because he managed to hit the most difficult target of his training session; something that no other under-aged elf in Mirkwood had accomplished before. He came straight to me with his great news and I invited him to drink some wine with me and celebrate his success. We sat on the floor and talked about a million things, until he suddenly told me that he is proud to have me as father. 

We hugged each other and before I knew it, his lips were on mine. I was startled at first, a million thoughts crossing my mind. I wanted that, it was true. I never quite knew when I stopped seeing his only as a son, and started seeing him as a very attractive male as well. I do not remember when I first dreamed of kissing and making love to him; it seems like ages ago. But I also knew that this kiss was wrong, so I pushed him away. 

I will never forget the disappointment I saw in his eyes then. With trembling voice, he confessed that he was in love with me, that he wanted me. I just listened, unable to think of how I should react, and when he kissed me again, I responded. We kissed for what seemed like hours, but when I saw that he wanted more, I fought against him once more. 

But not for long, his words were so sweet, so honest; I knew I could not deny him anything. Nor did I want to. 

So it continued, until today, until last night when my wife saw what I was doing to my kid. I know I promised her not to touch him, but it seems hard, almost impossible. And I cannot even imagine how he will react to her words. I hope she has not spoken to him yet. I want to warn him first. 

My breath catches in my throat when two strong hands embrace me from behind, but I immediately relax as I recognize the familiar touch of my son. "What is wrong?" he murmurs, while he bents to nuzzle my neck. So affectionate, so loving... 

"You startled me," I confess and cover his soft hands with my own, squeezing them gently. I cannot deny that I feel a lot calmer now that he is here; his presence has a soothing effect on my worries and troubles. 

"What is wrong?" he insists. I move my head and as our eyes meet, I can see his genuine concern. "I was worried when you didn't come to me tonight. Has something happened?" 

Should I tell him? He must know...He has to learn the dangers we are facing; after all, we are together in this. "Yes, something has happened," I admit and I immediately see the fright twisting his lovely features. 

"Tell me," he urges me, as he walks around the chair and comes to sit on my lap. I cradle him close and for many long minutes, we simply sit there, touching and sharing our breaths, as his face is only mere inches from mine. I can almost feel the heat building up inside the room; from our caresses, his warm body, our deep, long kisses. 

I find myself unable to speak. When he is in my arms, everything else seems unimportant. I just want to kiss him and love him in every way possible, not caring if it is right or wrong. How can such a deep love be wrong? The long, delicate fingers brushing away some strands from face bring me back to reality. Legolas has to know. 

"I had a lengthy discussion with your mother this morning." He tenses at once at the mention of Nimiel and I caress his hair to calm him down. "Or you could rather call it a fight. Anyway, the point is that she has found out about us." 

He is shocked. He drops his jaw open and his beautiful eyes are shadowed by fear, while he clutches my robes with all the strength he has. "It cannot be," he whispers brokenly, "How? When? What are we going to do?" 

"Calm down, my star," I say softly, "There is no need to panic yet. Everything will be all right." I know I cannot even fool myself with these words, but right now, I must play my part as a father and support my child. The color has drained from his face and I can see that he fights back tears. Despite everything we share, he is still too proud to cry in front of me. 

"I cannot loose you, ada," he whispers and I can hear the despair in his voice, "You mean so much to me. I would rather die than loose you. And I can't stop loving you either." 

"Shh, my little leaf," I whisper soothingly in his ear, rocking him gently, "Do not say such words. You are not going to die and I will do everything within my power not to loose you." 

I want to cry too, when he buries his face in my hair to stifle a sob. I cannot see him like that, it is breaking my heart. I kiss his hair and his shoulders over and over, trying to find a way to calm him down, while my arms tighten around him in a desperate embrace. 

"Why can't they understand?" he asks, but I know he isn't expecting an answer, "It feels so right to love you and still they call it ill and forbidden. But how can they know if they have never experienced it? How can a love that fills my heart with such joy and happiness be wrong?" 

What am I to say? How can I answer to my child, when I do not know the answer myself? The first tears are rolling from my eyes. 

Suddenly, he pushes away from me and takes my face into his hands. "Is it really wrong, ada? Do you think that is wrong too?" 

The intensity and doubt in his voice are too much from me. Without second thought, I push him down to the floor and kiss him desperately, releasing all the anguish of my heart into that kiss. "Listen to me," I say seriously when we pull apart, "I love you, and no one can take that from us. No matter what they say or do, we have each other and we have our love. Promise me that you will never forget that." 

"I promise," he says quietly, his eyes glittering with emotion. "Make love to me now." 

So intense, so needy... 

"I promised your mother..." 

"Forget about her," he whispers fervently, "I need you, ada." 

Why can I never resist? Why can I never say no to him or stop my hands from touching him? His shirt is already off and his body is writhing under mine. I know he needs this, because I need it to. I live for these moments, for his kisses, his caresses... 

Soon enough the room is filled with our moans and screams, and even though I know we must be quite, I find myself wanting to hear more from him, more proves of his pleasure and passion. 

"I love you..." 

Every time. He tells me every time he is at the peak of his ecstasy. And I know he does... 

Perhaps... Is this the reason why I cannot stop? Because I want to hear it over and over? Is this the reason I can find no escape? 

Or is there no escape? 

The end. (or maybe not...)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: It surely has taken long, but here it is! I proudly present you the third chapter of my (unexpectedly) most popular story. Honestly, when I began to write this story, I only expected to be flamed to death for daring to throw our most beloved elf into his own father's bed, but things turned out so differently. I have received more e-mails and nice comments for "Sinners" than I have for all my other stories. It's amazing how you have welcomed this relatively new pairing and I'm also very happy that it has given inspiration for other stories. So, I would really, really like to thank each one of you for sending even the smallest comment, because without you out there, this story would not exist. And I'm not saying it out of typicality, but because I really feel grateful towards you. Once again thank you and Happy Christmas!

What would wiser, she wondered. To stay silent or to talk? 

Nimiel halted at the dark corner of the balcony and observed her son from afar. 

In many ways it felt like she was seeing him for the first time. Her son, whom she had carried in her loins, whom she had almost died giving breath to, the one she had fed with her milk. 

A part of her, yet a complete stranger. 

How her own child had turned into a rival for her husband's heart, she did not know. 

Now, as she watched him standing a few meters away from her, bathed in the moonlight, surrounded by an eerie glow, which almost made him look as a distant god, she truly understood for the first time, how little did she have in common with her child. 

He had grown up under the same roof where she lived, yet it was like they had always been miles and miles away. Looking back, she realized that in those hundred years Legolas was alive, they had barely exchanged a word other than hello. 

It pained her to admit that. It pained her, for in her heart she could do nothing but put the blame on her. If she had been a real mother to Legolas, if she hadn't let Thranduil be practically his only parent, maybe none of these would have ever happened. Maybe her son wouldn't have fallen in love with his father. 

How sickening this sounded! Like a bad dream, a nightmare that... 

"Will you be standing there for long?" 

She jumped at the sound of his voice. She had been lost in her thoughts and hadn't seen him turn around. Taken aback from his sudden question, she simply stared at him, not knowing what to answer. 

"I know you have been standing there for a while. I know that you wish to talk to me." 

His voice was cold and distant. He sounded much older than he really was, Nimiel noticed. The expression he wore on his face was calm and neutral, so she could not really suspect how he felt. 

Gathering all the dignity and courage that she had left, she moved from the shadows and walked slowly towards her son. The distance between them closed, yet Nimiel had the strange feeling that Legolas had put an unseen wall around him, preventing her from really being close to him. 

"You know what I desire to speak to you of," she said calmly. She had troubles recognizing even her own voice. 

"I see no need for prologues," Legolas replied calmly. 

Fine, Nimiel thought to herself. Then I see none either. "What you are doing is wrong," she said steadily. 

"I know." 

"It is also forbidden." Her voice was becoming unstable once more. 

"I know." 

"It is against the laws of nature." Could you not think of a sillier argument, she chided herself. 

Legolas raised a delicate eyebrow. "That I know too," he said again, this time his tone colored with a slight hint of bemusement. 

Nimiel feared that this cold and strongly armed boy would soon make her loose her temper. "You know all these, yet you continue with this...this..." Funny. She had never thought of putting a name to it. 

"Relationship?" Legolas offered. "I have not the power not the desire to put an end to it." 

This boy really had nerves! Without even realizing her, her features had twisted with fury. "You may not have the desire, but I certainly do! If you hadn't yet realized it yet, my boy, this is _my_ husband we are talking about. He belongs to ME!" 

Oh Valar! This was not the direction she had hoped the conversation would take. Playing the part of the betrayed and jealous wife was not what she was supposed to be doing. She had a far more important role to play. That of the mother she had never really been. 

"I am perfectly aware of that," Legolas answered, again without betraying the slightest hint of emotion, "And this is the only thing about which I feel the need to apologize. I am sorry, my queen, for I have taken claim of something that does not belong to me and I now have become unable to abandon it." 

That was not the answer Nimiel had expected to hear. Unable to think of anything else, she said the first thing that came to her mind. "I am not your queen. I am your mother." Her battle with the tears was lost. 

"I have never called you so." 

How? How could he be so cold? Nimiel felt that with each passing moment, she was loosing her child more and more. 

"But why?" she asked, her voice filled with sadness and regrets. 

"Because you have never called me your son." 

As simple as that. Yet, so complicated and so meaningful. His expression may have not betrayed anything, yet his words hid his complaint. 

"But you are my son," she whispered. 

Then, in a sudden attempt to close the huge gasp, which had been formed between them, she reached her hand to touch her son's face. 

And she was denied. 

Legolas took a step back, not allowing his mother to reach him physically, as he had denied her to reach him emotionally. 

"I have no need for a mother now," he stated. "It is too late. We are not able to cover the distance that separates us. I have no need for your caresses, for I have those of my father, the ones he had _always_ offered me freely and not after request. I have my father's love to fill my heart. You may be sickened when you think that he takes me into his bed, but you must face it. I love him, in every way possible, and I love him more than you ever have. No one, I'm telling you no one, has the power to erase what we feel for each other and this will never change." 

Nimiel felt her limps going numb, her ears drumming and her eyes going vacant, as she watched Legolas turn and stride away, giving her no chance to reply, no chance to touch him, tell him that she was sorry... 

For it was all her fault... Hers and hers alone. 

* * *

When he opens his arms and envelops me into his warm embrace, I can feel that all is well. I can feel secure and protected from the angry world out there. 

I title my head upwards and steal a much-wanted and needed kiss from his silken lips and I understand that I am not fighting in vain. This is where I belong. 

I know that no other can love me as my father does, and I know that I do not want or need to be loved by anyone else. 

"I was right after all," I murmur when we break our kiss and he draws me closer, pressing his face on my hair and placing soft, soothing kiss on my scalp. 

"Did she come to you?" he asks, and I can easily detect the slight distress in his voice. It is to be expected. I think that it is even more difficult for him, because he thinks that the blame must be put on his shoulders. He thinks that he has seduced me, despite my protests for the opposite. 

"She did," I reply and he draws back a little to look into my face. 

"How did it go?" 

"I cannot really say," I answer and it is the truth. I had expected a much more difficult encounter. "She was very upset, not only about us, I think. I believe she is feeling guilty of never really been my mother." 

Father looks skeptical. His eyes seem quite distant for a moment, so I give him a small nudge on the chin to bring him back to me. 

"What?" he asks playfully and smiles at me. I love it when he smiles, because he always keeps his most special and beautiful smiles only for me. It is his own way of making me feel cherished. 

"You know I really missed you last night," I say, hoping to change the subject and lighten the heavy atmosphere, which distresses us both. 

"It was a very important meaning," father replies. 

"I know that. Yet, that didn't make me miss you less." 

I think he finally has realized what I'm saying. He pushes me back on my bed and coves my body with his. I love to feel his weight pressuring me onto the mattress, his lean body moving between my spread legs. 

"I think that I shall see to remedy the sadness that I've caused you, shouldn't I?" he whispers seductively in my ear and I cannot help but shudder with anticipation. 

He shifts slightly above me and his long, delicate fingers move to unbutton my shirt. He finishes it off quickly, used as he is, and swiftly moves down to place long, wet kisses on my exposed chest and nipples. I think that if paradise were like that, I would love to die this moment. 

The bulge between my legs is making my leggings painfully tight and I can't help but thrust upwards, eager to meet my father's erection and rub myself on him. He smiles knowingly and moves his mouth to my navel and lower...oh, lower. 

He kisses my erection though the thin fabric and the friction is almost making me wild. "Please...more..." I moan between clenched teeth. 

He could never deny me anything. He sits up and helps me off my leggings, even as he removes his own. I have to take a moment and I admire him once more. Everyone is saying that _I_ am beautiful, but I don't think they ever looked at my father. I have never met anyone like him. 

Without me noticing it, he has taken the oil from my drawer and is covering his fingers with it. The anticipation is driving me wild and I thrust my hips of the bed, desperately hoping for some kind of contact. 

"Patience, my little leaf," he urges me, and before I have time to complain, I feel his oil-coated fingers inside me, preparing for the sweet bliss that is about to come. No matter how many times we do this, the pleasure never lessens. 

When he thinks I'm perfectly prepared, he withdraws he fingers, only to enter me again, this time fully, deeply, maddening deeply. 

"Oh Valar..." I groan and hold onto him as for dear life. I see and feel him move in and out of me and my whole world seems to narrow to this one person above me, the person that can replace the world for me. 

Lost in ecstasy we scream each others names and fall exhausted on the mattress, where my fathers draws me close to him and kiss me once on the forehead and once on the lips. 

"You make me happy, Legolas, " he says quietly, "No matter what happens, you should never forget that, my little leaf." 

I will not. I know that the future does not seem bright for us, but I will never give up hope as long as he is close to me. 

To be continued...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Yes, you read that right. This time, I'm sure I'll continue for at least another chapter. We have seen the reactions from all the family members so far, so I thought it is time for the brothers to know. This won't be nice at all... 
> 
> What did you think of the lemon- scene? I wrote it out of public request, but it is nothing fancy, `cause I'm not good at it.


End file.
